


The Choices that Make Us

by FumbleBees



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Headcanon, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25560634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FumbleBees/pseuds/FumbleBees
Summary: Children are born into a world molded by the generations before them, forced to endure the consequences that follow. What were the choices that made our heroes (and villains) into the teens they grew to be?~~~~~This story is set before the events of the show and is based on the interactions between the adults. It follows the parents of Claudia, Soren, and Callum and is an attempt at expanding their relationships, explaining why they make the choices they do, and why their children are the way they are. (So basically all my headcanons in story form)
Relationships: Sarai (The Dragon Prince) & Original Character(s), Viren/Lissa (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

A quiet melody permeates the cold winter air, accompanied by the sounds of burning wood.

Sarai is sitting among a crumpled pile of pillows and blankets by the fireplace, a sleeping child resting his head on her lap. She leans into her seat, her eyes close, and her lips part, her hum transforming into the words of a sweet lullaby.

A moment passes and she finishes the song with a kiss on her baby’s forehead, a sigh escaping her lips. She imagines capturing this memory in a bubble, a piece of tranquility that she could eventually revisit…

But galloping hooves disrupt the peace, stopping right outside her home. The door is flung open and staggered, hurried steps make their way behind her.

She senses hesitation, but a warm pair of hands eventually touch her shoulders. “Love,” her husband whispers, as if attempting to preserve whatever peace was left intact. “Are you ready?”

With her eyes still closed, she gives his hand a firm squeeze. “I love you,” she replies, her emotions consuming any real answer to his question. “And I’ve missed you.”

He moves to crouch in front of her. “And I, you.” He strokes her cheek and presses his forehead to hers. “We need to go,” he murmurs, urgency steadily creeping into his voice.

Sarai’s eyes open to meet his. She takes a second to scan his face, assessing any damage acquired since they last saw each other. A bruise on his cheek, a cut on his eyebrow, and one on his upper lip, a trail of blood that dried just past his hairline… The uneven pace as of his gait was indicative of a limp, too.

She swallows her sentiments and offers a single determined nod, lips pursed so he doesn’t see them quiver. She rises with her son in her arms and hugs him tightly as he moans in protest. “I know, my darling, I’m sorry—shhh, it’s going to be okay.” She shakily pulls up the hood of his cloak.

“Quickly now,” her husband urges with a palm pressed against the small of her back. The death of the languid atmosphere is solidified as they step outside and into the frigid wind. He pulls his horse in and hops up, hoisting his wife and son up after him.

The boy sits in front of his father, eyes wide with confusion, and a tiny fist clutching the horse’s mane. “Mama?” he whimpers, the sound of his cries follows shortly as the horse begins to run.

“We’re fine, Callum, it’s okay,” she hears her husband say, albeit frantically. “We’re going to visit aunt Amaya at the castle, just hold on.” The horse’s pace quickens. Sarai keeps her eyes peeled, scouring for any indication of danger.

* * * * *

They reach the castle when the waxing crescent moon is high. Two distinctly female figures meet them at the courtyard entrance. She was able to recognize one of the two immediately: Amaya, standing tall, her crown guard armor reflecting the moon’s light. Sarai feels a sense of pride welling up in her chest, but it’s tainted with anger upon realizing that there was a very important person missing from this party.

“No mage?” Sarai mutters, her tone icy. “I swear if he’s too cowardly to show his face tonight I’ll—” Her husband hushes her in response, pulling on the reins, coaxing his steed to a stop.

One of the figures reaches up to take a shivering Callum. She wraps him in a plush blanket before she regards the others. “General Sarai, General Adriel,” she greets, her bright blue eyes tracking their movements as they dismount.

Sarai offers a tired smile, the familiar voice granting some comfort. “Just Sarai, Lady Lissa,” she corrects.

“Just Lissa, Sarai,” the woman retorts with an amused grin. “It’s good to see you.” She shifts Callum onto one arm and pulls her into a hug. Sarai reciprocates. “Come, let’s get inside. They’re waiting for you in Viren’s study.” Lissa briskly walks ahead, leaving the other three to follow. 

Sarai briefly looks back at her husband and sister as she tails Lissa. Her eyes meet Amaya’s and they exchange nods, acknowledging each other’s presence. Adriel was signing, filling Amaya in on the details of the mission that led them to where they are now. Sarai’s hand reaches into the pocket of her uniform, fiddling with the parchment that held a message delivered by a crow a few days ago.

_ Discovered. Will be home within a week, taking you to the castle. Stay safe. I love you. _

She attempts to dispel the rage building up inside of her with a long exhale.

Few missions required crossing the border into Xadia. Any that did were quick, covert operations. All parties were bound by dark magic, sworn to secrecy, and the plans for the mission stayed strictly within the circle of individuals that were to carry it out.

This one was different.

Sarai could understand the weight of the matter. With the King on his deathbed and the Prince afflicted with a mysterious illness, something  _ had _ to be done. A power vacuum with war hanging over their heads would surely spell the end of Katolis. The royal council was desperate to save their King and Prince, so when Viren offered a solution, the votes on the course of action were unanimous.

It was decided: a select few were to infiltrate the capital of Sunfire Elves, obtain this staff that Viren was so passionate about, and return home. By the time this plan was settled, though, the number of individuals that knew were far beyond the select few.

It’s hard to say whether the leakage of such sensitive information ultimately led to the discovery of the Katolian soldiers they sent to Xadia, but Sarai felt they shouldn’t have taken the risk. It was a doomed mission from the start—never before had anyone been tasked with penetrating the heart of an elven territory, and the loose lid of some officials only worsened their likelihood of success.

But it needed to be done, Viren had said… And Adriel wholeheartedly agreed.

Sarai felt a tinge of regret for all the nights they spent fighting over his decision to partake in this suicidal expedition… But just a few days before he was sent away, she finally conceded. It had to be done. For Katolis.

_ For Callum _ .

Lissa pauses ahead in front of the door to Viren’s study. She turns to face them. “My apprentice will be tending to your wounds once he’s done with my husband,” she declares, addressing Adriel directly before glancing at Sarai. “I’ll take care of Callum for the night—just to make sure the cold from the ride over doesn’t get him sick.”

Callum shifted at the mention of his name, but sleep ultimately reclaims him. Sarai walks over and gives him a kiss goodnight, stroking his hair as she whispers a quick “Thank you” to Lissa.

“Of course, General.” She winks, takes a step back, and makes her way down the moonlit halls of the castle.

Adriel breaks the silence, a hand on the knob of the door. “Shall we…?”

Sarai turns to face him, a suppressed fury taking over her otherwise soft features. “Let’s get this over with.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Must you be so aggressive?” Viren snaps as the Doctor-In-Training dabs at his wounds, fingers clenching around the armrests of his seat.

“My apologies, Lord Viren,” Mathias smirks, keeping his eyes on the task at hand. “Did you want me to bring Lady Lissa in here to hold your hand?” he teases.

The mage chuckles. “If anything she would probably _chop_ _off_ my hand.” He sighs, eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. “Things weren’t too bad after my departure, I hope.”

Mathias shrugs, dumping another batch of bloodied rags into a bucket. “Things weren’t too different.” He wrings out a clean towel from a second bucket and gently wipes around the lacerations on Viren’s arm. “Soren was off playing crown guard, for the most part. Claudia was still a happy child, and Lady Lissa’s still doing her best.”

A fond smile forms on Viren’s lips. “Yes, the children are quite a handful.” The apprentice nods and a comfortable silence falls between them. Viren lets his thoughts wander, imagining how his children would react to seeing him tomorrow.

Soren would no doubt greet him with the unparalleled enthusiasm of a six-year-old child. He was a chatty boy too, so Viren knew to prepare himself for a bombardment of questions about Xadia. He eyes the dragon plushie sitting on his work desk, a gift he picked up from Duren on the way to Xadia, and considers making a wooden sword for his son as well. It would be good practice for the future captain of the crown guard.

Claudia, on the other hand, was a little more difficult to place. Though his daughter was still young, she had clearly picked up the duality of her mother: stubborn and fussy, then cheery and bright all in the same breath. He’d like to imagine that their reunion would be as seamless as it would be with Soren, but it would probably take a little more persuasion for both his wife and daughter to forgive him for his decision. _Perhaps I should have gotten them gifts as well,_ he ponders.

Mathias is just about done by the time they hear footsteps coming down the hall. “Ah, perfect timing.” He starts preparing for his next patient and Viren draws a deep, audible breath as he buttons up his top.

The doors push open and the trio shuffles in. Adriel heads over to the seat Mathias is gesturing to, Amaya pulls up a chair, taking a seat by the door, and Sarai remains standing with her arms crossed. “Viren,” she greets curtly.

“Sarai,” he says slowly. Adriel’s movement as he interprets for Amaya briefly captures his eye, but he wills himself not to look away from the former General. “I understand that you’re upset—“

“Upset?” Sarai sputters. “I don’t even know how to begin telling you how absolutely _furious_ —” She cuts herself off, pausing to close her eyes and exhale. When they open, she turns to face Viren. “My stance on this mission has been clear since the day I found out. I expected the worst, but even that didn’t include this.” She leans over so her piercing gaze is in line with his. “So tell me, Viren, was this staff worth it?” she questions, keeping her voice low.

He matches her glare as he answers. “Let me show you.” He pushes himself up, ignoring Mathias’s protests, and hobbles over to his desk. He then rifles through one of his drawers and produces two vials containing a luminescent green fluid. After downing the contents of a single vial, he utters a familiar, haunting incantation.

He pulls up the hem of his shirt, revealing a long gash across his abdomen among other minor cuts and bruises. They glow an eerie purple and rapidly heal, the raw, open wounds transforming into scabs within seconds.

Sarai and Amaya exchange looks. They were well aware of the healing properties of dark magic. It was common practice for military personnel to approach the mage for a cure to their various ailments if they did not respond quickly enough to his wife’s treatments. Even though the sisters chose not to partake in this practice, his display was still nothing new to anyone in the room.

“Adriel,” Viren’s voice regains their attention. “Please remove your armor.”

His command is met with a conflicted look on her husband's face. “I promise it’s not as bad as it looks. It’s only this way because we had a rough ride back,” he says to no one in particular, looking down as he slowly took off his shoulder and chest plates, then the top of his uniform beneath it.

Amaya hisses, and Sarai presses her hand to her lips, the shock rendering her completely numb.

His torso was a mosaic of a muted blue from his ruptured veins and angry red of the second-degree burns that littered his body. There was a glossy sheen over his injuries, likely from the blisters that had popped on his journey home. He had some cuts and scrapes, but most heart wrenching of all was the deep stab wound situated right below his left collar bone. It was meant to be the killing blow, that Sarai was sure of. By some miracle, the assailant has missed, but the realization of just how close she was to losing her husband was enough to bring her to her knees.

Amaya rushes forward, holding her sister up. “How…” she begins to sign, but she hesitates. Her mind is racing with so many questions, she’s not even sure where to start.

“We were ambushed,” Adriel defends weakly. “Viren was able to perform a healing ritual on me, but we didn’t have enough to prevent… this.” He winces as if only now realizing the extent of the damage.

Viren wordlessly walks over and hands him the second vial. Adriel takes it and swallows the fluid with a grimace. He’d undergone the ritual enough times to be familiar with the taste that touched his tongue, but there was no way he’d ever get used to the bitterness of grasshopper goo. He shudders.

He looks up and the staff they stole from Xadia is now positioned right in front of him with Viren holding it up. Tightening his grip on the staff, Viren recites the spell, and Adriel’s wounds radiate a purple light, significantly stronger than what they had witnessed on the mage.

Sarai feels nauseated watching his healthy skin almost… slither up to the blistered sites, as if there were flexible strips of cloth being pulled over them. The bruises on his body were yellowing out and the stab wound was starting to shift as if his muscles were writhing.

Adriel lets out a strangled cry, pressing a closed fist over the open puncture on his shoulder. “All part of the process,” Viren assures through gritted teeth, his stance unwavering. Adriel leans his head back and lowers his fist with a pained groan, allowing the others to see his muscle fibers rejoin and pull together like tiny vines. The injury finally closes to form a pink scar, and Viren allows his form to relax.

The final results stunned everyone into silence, Viren included. He had expected the spell to work better with the staff, but not to this degree. The man before him was still covered in a thin sheen of serum, now joined by sweat. He seemed a little drowsy based on the way his head leaned to the side and his eyelids drooped, but otherwise appeared relatively healthy. Most of the blisters were healed over, and although there was still some bruising, the most pressing lesion on his shoulder was gone.

When the mage recovers, he speaks. “Now do you see? The elves and dragons banished us from the land our ancestors called home, left us to fend for ourselves against the elements. This—” He brandishes the staff as he turns to face the sisters. “This allows us to level the playing field. This could save our kingdom—our people.” He holds out a hand to Sarai. “Now do you see why obtaining this staff was of utmost importance?”

Sarai stares blankly at his outstretched fingers, not making any moves to respond. Amaya, on the other hand, had her eyes trained on his face. He notices and raises an eyebrow. “Your eyes,” she signs simply before pointing to the reflective surface of Adriel’s breastplate resting on the ground.

Viren, curious, picks up the piece of armor and holds it up to his face. The fully black eyes of his reflection stare back at him, looking as though his pupils had expanded well past his iris. He brings a hand to his cheek, perhaps to check that it was truly himself that he was looking at.

“It…” His voice falters as he fights to keep it devoid of emotion. He doesn’t look away. “It’s all part of the process.”

* * * * *

Lissa wakes up the following day to the sound of squealing toddlers. She stretches with a moan and takes her time sitting up—until she feels a tug on her long blonde hair halfway up. She rubs the sleep from her eyes and peers down to see her son sprawled on the sheets of her bed. With a lopsided smile, she tries to free her locks from his grasp… which only manages to rouse him.

Seeing no point in subtlety, Lissa scoops him up and wraps him in a tight hug. “Good morning, Sor-Bear.”

“G‘morning, mommy,” he yawns, releasing her hair and returning her hug with all the strength he could muster.

Just then, two tiny bodies join them on the mattress, hand in hand. “Mommy mommy mommy mommy!” Claudia shrieks. “Callum’s here, Callum’s here!” Callum matches her energetic bounces, excitedly repeating after her to the best of his ability.

Lissa laughs, despite a headache forming due to the loudness of the children. Callum’s liveliness was a pretty clear indication that the events of the previous night have not affected his well being. She still wants to check him, though, just to be sure.

She places Soren back onto the bed and holds her hands out to Callum. “Callum darling, will you come here, please?” Claudia nudges the tot in the direction of her mother, but Soren drapes himself over his mother’s lap before Callum reaches her.

“I’m here, mommy!” he announces with a goofy grin, his blue eyes bright and alert.

Before Lissa has a chance to respond, Claudia shoves Soren away. “You’re not Callum!” she yells, yanking the youngest of the three and pushing him into her mother’s arms.

Soren elbows his sister. ”Don’t push me, Claudia!” Claudia starts screaming, Soren continues to reprimand her, and Callum wails, probably overwhelmed by all the stimulation so early in the morning.

You and me both, my boy, Lissa mentally groans.

She rubs her face and gets off the bed, carrying Callum with her in one arm. She firmly grips Soren’s forearm, giving him a stern look. The child freezes. “Soren, do not push your sister. Say sorry to Claudia.” His protests are met with a glare and he eventually yields. His mother releases him.

“Sorry, Claudia,” he pouts, but she doesn’t hear him even though her screams have reduced to tears. He looks up at his mom for guidance, but she’s pacing now, rocking Callum in an attempt to soothe him. His frown morphs into a look of determination and he crawls closer to his sister. “Claudiaaaaa.” He smooshes her cheeks between his hands and tilts her face so their eyes meet. “I’m sorry!”

She peers at him through a watery gaze, her squished cheeks forcing her lips into a pout. “That hurt! That hurt right here!” She points at her sternum.

He releases her. “But. I said. I’m sorry. Claudia!” he whines, lifting and smacking the blanket onto the bed to punctuate his words. There’s a pause… then his eyes widen as an idea crosses his mind. “Snuggle party!” He lifts the blanket once again and encases his baby sister in it. She squeals as he wraps his arms and legs around her. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

The duo is laughing now, and little Callum chortles along in Lissa’s arms. She sits back down on the bed and snatches her literal bundles of joy into a hug, making sure to include Callum in their little cuddle fest. “Everyone alright now?” she asks, and the children respond with a chorus of “Uh-huh”s. “Perfect.” She pulls away, brushing Claudia’s hair off her face. “Now, why don’t we all get ready so we can see what everyone else is up to?”

Soren leaps off the bed first, his grin never leaving his face. Claudia follows shortly after but not without grabbing her mother’s hand, declaring that she was going to show Callum how to brush his teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading chapter 2 :D The next chapter will be out on 08/08/20~
> 
> Also, I don't know why my notes from the first chapter are also in this chapter. I've been trying to delete it but it doesn't want to go anywhere :( hopefully I'll have this figured out by next time...


	3. Chapter 3

Two sharp raps on the door break Viren’s concentration.

He already knew who it was based on the pattern of the knocks but that doesn’t stop a noise of frustration from escaping his lips. “Come in,” he calls, not looking up from the mess scrolls and tomes laid out in front of him, eyes searching for the line he was last reading. “Can I help you?”

“The sun has risen, Viren,” a male voice notifies him with a hint of concern. “You’ve been at this all night.”

He lets his body flop back into his seat, running his hands through his hair. The curtains of his study were drawn and he was still working under the light of his oil lamp, not noticing how much time had passed. Though, now that he allows himself to peer past his work, he can see sun rays creeping in.

“I just don’t understand. All night I’ve been searching for an answer to this--” he aggressively points at his completely black eyes. “But there’s  _ nothing _ .” His fists slam onto the table.

A gloved hand rests on the pages in front of him. Viren sighs, letting his eyes close for a moment as the exhaustion catches up with him.

“I am ready,” he stands, picking up a book he had resting by the legs of his chair. “I’m ready to make whatever sacrifices necessary to save our people. If the staff kills me, then so be it. But how long, Amaya? How long will I have left with my children if I had to use it again?” He shoots the Captain and her interpreter a weary gaze.

Amaya lifts her hand from the table and forms the beginnings of a phrase but she stops, unsure of what to say. Seconds tick by before she tries again. “We don’t need to use it,” she signs. “I’m sure there are other unexplored alternatives that we could look into.”

“There’s no time for that.” He holds up the book from earlier. “I found a… rejuvenation spell of sorts. It won’t fix the damages done by the staff, whatever they may be, but it’ll at least restore my appearance so my family doesn’t have to see me like this...” Viren lets out a humorless chuckle with a shake of his head. “I shall continue my research at a later time. Who knows, we may find that the effects are nothing but superficial.” He straightens himself. “I presume you’re here because the King is awake?”

Amaya’s stare is calculative as she considers her response. Her lips tighten and she settles for a nod.

Viren returns the gesture. He grips the staff and slings a bag he had prepared the night before over his shoulder. “I have everything we need for the spell. Shall we?”

* * * * *

A crutched Adriel wanders the castle.

He had woken up in the infirmary a little over an hour ago surrounded by other cots where his soldiers from the mission lay. He chatted with those that were awake, checked on those that weren’t, and by the time he was done, he was itching for some movement beyond what the room allowed. Though the rational part of him insisted on waiting for someone to come get him, the mission-driven mindset hadn’t quite left him yet. Restless, he decided to look for his family… and now he’s here, lost in the labyrinth that is the castle of Katolis.

The Captain of the crown guard had actually shown him around the castle when he was summoned for a recognition ceremony several years ago. Admittedly, he didn’t bother committing anything from the tour to memory—as a Commander stationed at the Breach he hardly saw it as pertinent information at that time. Plus it didn’t help that he and the Captain were the only contenders for the position of General. He wouldn’t have willingly attended such a pretentious event if it didn’t give him the opportunity to scope out his competition.

Word had gone around that the esteemed Captain of the crown guard was a disciplined and conscientious woman, the absolute best of the best. She joined the crown guard as soon as she could and rose through the ranks faster than anyone before her. In fact, when his superiors had heard who he was up against, they responded with sympathetic glances and “there’s always next time”s. But Adriel, as adamant he was, refused to go down without a fight. Hence, his reconnaissance mission.

In the time spent with his rival, he learned two simple truths. One, the rumors of her prowess painted what turned out to be a pretty accurate picture of her. And two, there was no way he was going to be General anytime soon. 

He subconsciously touches his sleeve where the General’s insignia would have been on his uniform.

His prediction partially came to fruition: he lost the title to the Captain. Though, the rank  _ was _ eventually bestowed on him when she got married almost four years later.

To him.

He chuckles thinking back to the controversy that surrounded their union--harsh gossip with him as the primary subject was especially rampant. Rumors like he married her to sabotage her career or to gain power, or that he was planted by the elves to penetrate the human kingdoms were the most common ones floating around. It didn’t bother him, though, especially because they couldn’t be farther from the truth.

When Sarai was granted the position, she relocated to the Breach where he just so happened to be second in command. Naturally, they spent almost every waking moment side by side. As they got to know each other, they forged a deep connection, a friendship more emotionally intimate than any he ever had before. Sarai often boasts that it’s her excellent communication skills, and while he won’t deny that it definitely helped, he knows that it goes deeper than that.

She was (and still is) his confidant and closest friend, it didn’t take long for the notion of life without her to just seem… inconceivable. They exchanged their deepest secrets, laid out their vulnerabilities, shared their hopes and dreams, and somehow, somewhere along the way, he fell in love.

_ So did Sarai, apparently _ , he smiles to himself, fingers tracing the simple silver band that was his wedding ring hanging from his neck on a thin strip of leather.

He’s harshly pulled from his reverie when his crutch gets caught in a crack. Thankfully, hands are there to catch him before his face hits the pavement. He expresses his gratitude to the crown guard that saved him from a world of hurt and takes some time to assess his surroundings.

_ It’s the courtyard _ , he recognizes. Soldiers are training, practicing drills, and sparring. It wasn’t the company he was looking for, but the familiarity of the scene before him was enough to ease his nerves for the time being. He resumes his trip down memory lane.

Shortly after Sarai resigned from the military, they purchased a house “a safe distance” from the Breach, as his wife had described. She had always been vocal about keeping her future offspring as far removed from the war as possible, even shooting down any ideas he had about training their children in the art of combat. He secretly hopes she’ll eventually change her mind but, for now, he let her have her way. Callum was still a baby, after all.

Adriel wonders when he’ll be sent back to the Breach, and the thought spurs an ache in his chest.

He was fortunate to have a relationship with his son since they resided close enough for him to make the trip to and from his post. But that didn’t stop him from missing his family dearly: every hour or so he spent on travel was precious time he could have spent with them. Every second counts, especially with the degree of uncertainty involved in his line of work.

The ache blooms into a series of emotions, barely distinguishable as they mercilessly wash over him like waves in a storm. Adriel clutches his ring in an attempt to ground himself, taking several deliberate breaths and consciously directing his mind to more pleasant thoughts.

His attention drifts to the shade of the trees above him, their leaves protecting him from the blinding light of the sun. The cool breeze ruffling his hair and the sounds of clashing swords brings him back to a simpler time.

He feels the pull of a memory on his thoughts but a pair of arms wrapping around his neck chase his musings away. A sloppy kiss is planted on his cheek. “Where are you, my love?” Sarai asks, her tone light with amusement. “What distant lands have your thoughts taken you to?”

With a roll of his eyes, he takes her hand and presses his lips to her palm. “You’re lucky I’m still recovering. That could’ve ended very badly for you.”

“Is that so?” she laughs, taking a seat by his side while keeping her fingers intertwined with his. She rests her head on his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

He puts a hand to his chin, feigning deep thought. “A little self-conscious, actually. Hard to ignore people gawking at the legendary Captain Sarai.” Hand down, he pointedly jerks his chin in the direction of the guards who had paused their drills and were unsubtly staring at them.

A look of bewilderment graces her features as she sits up, but it morphs into a glare when she sees what he’s talking about. They don’t even give her a chance to say anything before they’re scrambling to resume their activities.

“So.” She settles back on his shoulder. “How are you  _ really  _ feeling?”

He holds a finger up to count his answers. “Happy, because you’re here.” He raises a second finger. “Sad, because Callum’s not but,” a third finger goes up, “excited because I know I’ll get to see him soon and our family will be together again.”

Sarai hums in agreement. “There’s more, though.”

Adriel’s breath hitches in his throat. The emotions from earlier return, casting his mind into a shadowy darkness he fought so hard to keep away. For a moment, all he hears are the screaming winds of anxiety and the thunderous din of fear. His vision is overtaken by flashes of the combat in Xadia, the scar healed just the night before starts to burn.

Shame begins to rear its ugly head as Sarai sits up to face him but a gentle pressure around his hand breaks through the clouds of his mind. Although she doesn’t say it, Adriel is reminded to breathe.

His voice is barely louder than the noise of the training ahead of them when he finally chokes out an answer. “Of course there is.” He doesn’t elaborate but Sarai’s gentle kiss on his knuckles assures him that she understands.

* * * * *

When Viren, Amaya, and her interpreter enter King Eadric’s chambers, he’s on his bed, upright with an open book on his lap. His fingers are tucked under a page as if he had paused mid-flip, but his unfocused eyes staring blankly out the window suggest he is lost in thought.

“Your Highness,” his caregiver says gently. “You have visitors.”

The King looks up, and his eyes light up with recognition. “Captain Sarai?” Amaya shakes her head but offers a half-smile as she moves to kneel by him. His eyes lose their sparkle, and though she’s mildly offended, she does not comment—she knows Sarai had left behind some big shoes for her to fill. “Ah, Captain Amaya, my apologies. Has your sister arrived at the castle?”

“She arrived last night with General Adriel,” she reports, and her interpreter translates. “The other soldiers are being treated as we speak, and troops have been dispatched this morning to ensure the safety of their families.”

“Very good,” he nods. “And what of Viren?”

The mage clears his throat, taking steps towards them. “I’m here, your Majesty. And I’ve brought a cure for your affliction.” 

King Eadric blinks at him, and for a moment, Viren thinks he’s going to point out the state of his eyes. Instead, the regent throws his head back in a deep, hearty laugh. “Viren, my boy. I’m  _ old _ , not sick.”

“There are spells for that, too,” Viren responds, almost petulantly. “Rest assured that I will do anything in my power to restore your health.”

The corners of the King’s lips lower, his expression turning somber. “Have you visited the Prince?”

There’s a pregnant pause.

“N-no?” In his astonishment, Viren’s reply comes out as a question. He clears his throat. “His ailment has yet to be identified. The council instructed I see you first because yours requires a relatively simple solution.”

A sigh fills the silence. “There are rules in place regarding the descent of the crown. While I do think that it is quite possibly the worst time to be searching for a new monarch, granting me immortality hardly seems like a viable long-term solution.” The King meets Viren’s gaze. “Tell me honestly, Viren: can you save my son?”

All eyes are on him now, the tension almost palpable as everyone awaits his response. He tightens his grip on the staff. “Yes,” he answers, determination apparent in his voice.

King Eadric maintains eye contact, checking for any cracks in his resolve. Then, he relents with an exhale. “Very well. Do what you must to… restore me. I will hold the weight of the crown for the time being, but know this: this arrangement only stands so long as my son lives. If he perishes, you  _ will _ release me and a new royal line will be established. Am I clear?”

“Yes, King Eadric.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Early update in celebration of my first comment hehehehehe. I'll be posting the next chapter on the 9th too, so yay for double updates! See y'all in a few days!
> 
> (oh my goodness that pesky note from the first chapter is still here whY WON'T IT LEAVE *flails*. Please ignore the end note after this one i have no idea why it's still here.)


	4. Chapter 4

The Sunfire Queen sighs, her posture relaxed and her chin propped on the palm of her hand. Her court has been squabbling for hours now, debating whether the humans that robbed their kingdom were worth pursuing.

The council had only just received correspondence that these particular humans were from Katolis. Of course they were. Katolian humans were the worst of the lot. The other human kingdoms seemed to have no regard for Xadia. Katolis, on the other hand, was known to send spies and soldiers across the border. It was also the only kingdom foolish enough to position its military forces at the border. Waiting for a chance to strike, no doubt.

Personally, Khessa felt that the relic was not even worth the resources they drained protecting it, never mind the manpower they would pour into ripping it from human hands. But when Sol Regem had tasked her people with protecting it several decades ago, her grandmother saw it as a great honor.

What an honor it is to be aligned with the first Dragon King to be stripped of his title because he could no longer serve his purpose, she internally scoffs.

It was pointless to try to get it back. The strength of the dark magic within that staff would lead to the gradual decay of any human daring enough to use it. And by the time they figure out how to do any real damage, they would probably already be dead. Though, a portion of her council insists that they err on the side of caution.

Janai is speaking now, and Khessa wills herself to sit up. The court stills.

Her sister has always been quite the traditionalist, advocating for the customs of the city that had been established long before either of them were born. This, of course, includes the protection of Ziard’s staff. Though they did not always see eye to eye, Khessa would be lying if she said she didn’t hold her sister’s opinion in high regard. This is part of the reason she has allowed this discussion to go on for as long as it has. Janai knew where she stood and was hoping that something would change her mind.

But no, not a single argument for the retrieval of the staff has compelled her to do so. The humans were harmless, with or without the staff—pesky, but ultimately harmless.

Still, she knows that she can’t have things her way. Situations as polarizing as this required careful solutions. She couldn’t let the crack between differing opinions in her court tear her whole kingdom in half—she wasn’t going to give humans the satisfaction of knowing that they caused this rift.

Janai concludes her point and the leaders of Lux Aurea resume drowning the silence with more of their incessant, pointless bickering.

Khessa decides she’s had enough and rises to her feet, allowing a moment for the arguments to die out. The Queen speaks and her subjects listen.

“We have deliberated over this matter for quite some time now,” she pauses, intentionally looking over the individuals in attendance. “And I am sure that there are several compelling arguments that are left unsaid. However, I have heard enough from both sides to come to a decision.” She carefully observes the reactions of her people as she gestures for the High Priest to bring her the sun staff. He complies with her request and she takes it to her sister, pressing it into Janai’s palm. “We will judge the High Mage of Katolis and execute him should the Light reveal any darkness within him.”

She saunters back to her throne. “That way, the humans get to keep their toy,” she waves her hand dismissively. “And because the staff is only dangerous in the hands of someone who knows how to wield dark magic, we destroy the only human that does. Thus, ensuring the safety of our people. Any questions?”

An advisor steps forward. “Your Highness, with all due respect, what if the humans respond with a declaration of war?”

“Up until my proposal there have only been two options: wage war on the humans and retrieve the staff, or leave it be. The former guarantees the loss of our soldiers on human lands with limited possibility that we will get the staff back, the latter guarantees that we will never get the staff back and risk the lives of our people should the humans get too… confident.” Her lips twist into the beginnings of a snarl before she composes herself. “Either way, the threat of war exists. My recommendation is simply to show the humans that Lux Aurea is not to be trifled with. If they are foolish enough to declare war, it’s a war that will be fought on our territory which only assures our victory.” She takes a seat. “Any other concerns?”

Khessa smiles as she is met with silence.

“Very good. In that case, Janai, select your troops and prepare for departure. I would very much like to move on to our next order of business.”

“Yes, my Queen,” Janai bows, though Khessa knows the look on her face is communicating a different message: We’ll talk later.

* * * * *

“Be careful, Sor-bear,” Lissa calls.

The child wobbles on the stone parapet and sends his mom a pout for breaking his concentration. “I’m fi--Oh!” He stops and crouches, gripping the edge of his perch as he reaches over to a nearby bush and breaks a twig off it. “Look, ma, a sword!”

“That’s nice, sweetie,” she replies, but her attention is on Callum as he wriggles in her arms and lets out a noise of objection. “I know, I know. You can play with Soren after you finish your food, deal?”

He tilts his head, but still squeaks a jolly “yes” in response, holding out a half-eaten fruit in his hands.

They had spent half the day looking for the other parents, but to no avail: Sarai wasn’t in her room, Adriel wasn’t in the infirmary, and Viren wasn’t in his study. They also went through other public-accessible rooms, but the adults were nowhere to be seen. Lissa was absolutely exhausted. Even Claudia and Callum seemed tuckered out from their trip around the castle. All that was left was—

“En garde, foul elf!”

—Soren. Who is fervently attacking passing foliage with his newly acquired weapon.

The courtyard was really the only other place left for them to check after they stopped by the kitchen. Lissa suspected that she might not find anyone of interest there, but knowing that there was ongoing training at this time of day, she had hoped that Soren would join them and wear himself down a little bit.

Where in his tiny body does this child store all his energy? Lissa wonders, a tired but genuine smile gracing her features.

When they reach the courtyard, Soren races up to a group of resting soldiers proudly flaunting his “sword.” Claudia releases her hold on her mother’s skirt, plops herself onto a patch of grass, and proclaims that she’s going to take a nap. Lissa settles next to her daughter and lets Callum go. With a squeal, he drops his food and begins running towards Soren only to be abruptly scooped up.

Lissa is alarmed when she doesn’t recognize the assailant right away, but her nerves calm when she sees Sarai lingering behind him. She’s not as familiar with Adriel, but his vivid, forest-green eyes and tousled light brown hair should’ve served as a clear indicator of who he was—she feels embarrassed that she hadn’t realized sooner.

When Sarai first introduced newborn Callum to her family, he was as much of a spitting image of his mother as a baby could be. He had her straight, dark hair, her cute button nose, and her smile. The only thing he seemed to inherit from his father at that time were his wide, inquisitive eyes, but their likeness only grew over time. He never lost his mother’s smile, though: bright, sincere, and unwavering.

“Oh my goodness you’ve gotten so big,” Adriel croons before blowing raspberries into the child’s tummy, evoking peals of laughter punctuated by lighthearted protests. “I can’t even carry you anymore, you're such a big boy!” He adjusts Callum with a hop, and it’s at that moment Lissa notices the crutch under his left arm.

She clears her throat. “Good to see that you’re up and about, General.” Both the current and former Generals acknowledge her statement at the same time.

“Ah just—”

“It’s—”

Adriel shoots his wife a questioning but playful look, and Sarai responds with a stare that seemed to jestingly dare him to challenge her. They hold each other's gaze for a brief moment before she nudges him with a laugh and takes Callum from his quaking arm. The duo join Lissa on the ground, Sarai placing her son on her lap.

“I apologize, I meant General Adriel. I thought that would’ve been clear since you’re Just Sarai now,” Lissa teases with a smirk, but she sobers up to address Adriel. “So, why the cane? I was informed Viren had healed you last night.”

“He did,” he confirms, laying the crutch on the ground next to him. “But there’s this... pinching sensation in the left side of my hip as I walk, and it’s only gotten worse since I got back. Also,” he clears his throat, “We don’t need honorifics among friends, just Adriel will do.”

She smiles politely but mentally fights to stop herself from calling him Just Adriel. “And did Mathias give you anything for the pain this morning?”

He gives her a sheepish smile, his eyes briefly darting to his wife whose eyebrows are also raised in question. “I didn’t get a chance to see him before I left—I’m alright though! I got here without a hitch.” He flashes an exaggerated grin.

Lissa presses her fingers to her forehead, muttering something about soldiers being impatient, and Sarai “tsk”s at him. “That may be the case, but we’ll still have to take a look,” the Doctor informs him.

“I’m fine,” he insists, not completely paying attention to her as Callum toddles over and flumps onto his lap. He rhythmically pokes Callum on his nose, then his hip, then his cheek, and the toddler is shrieking with joy as he tries to capture his father’s fingers.

Adriel then starts humming a poorly-composed song of his own creation, holding onto his son’s wrists and making him dance. Sarai laughs as Callum joins in with a mess of incoherent notes, kicking out his legs to complete the routine.

Lissa hides her own grin, turning her head to check on her children. Claudia’s still asleep, curled on her side in a fetal position, and Soren is sparring with a soldier, both using sticks as swords. “Hey, Sarai,” she says, eyes lingering on her son for a little bit longer before turning to face her. “Will you take care of Claudia for a bit? I still have to look for my husband and I don’t want to wake her.”

“Of course, that’s not a problem,” Sarai beams, still watching her husband and son play. “I’m sure Callum would enjoy the company.”

Lissa thanks her and calls Soren over, taking his weapon-free hand in hers. “I’ll pick her up tonight when I stop by to check on Ju--Adriel.” She dusts off her skirt. “Don’t let him run away this time,” she calls over her shoulder as she walks back into the castle.

“No promises!” Sarai replies before hoisting her son up and clumsily twirling with him to the beat of Adriel’s melody. It’s chaotic, it’s loud, and quite frankly doesn’t make any sense but even though all eyes are on them, appalled to see the generals behave this way, the family pays them no mind.

They were finally reunited and there was nothing else in the world that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be out 8/14/20~
> 
> We'll probably still see that pesky note from the first chapter below but ignore that as usual lol


	5. Chapter 5

Khessa releases a long exhale as she walks into her room. It had been a long day—all this drama around the human thievery had resulted in a backlog of matters that actually needed to be dealt with. She wonders when her sister would show up, perhaps Janai was giving her time to relax a little before—

“Your plan is short-sighted.”

 _Nevermind_.

Khessa takes off her headdress without looking at her sister. “I _came up_ with a plan,” she says pointedly, letting her hair down and brushing it out. Janai waits for her to continue but speaks when she is met with Khessa’s bored stare. 

“How are you so certain that there’s only one person in Katolis that knows how to use the staff?” Janai demands, still standing at the threshold of the Queen’s chambers.

“Magic is the High Mage’s expertise, is it not?” She lifts off her shoulder plate and turns to face her sister. “It stands to reason that he’s the worst of our problems.” 

“No,” Janai crosses the threshold. “What if they have students? Apprentices? What of the other human kingdoms? They could just as easily steal—”

“Janai,” Khessa snaps and hangs up her armor. “As your Queen, I have given you orders. Orders that you, as an appointed knight, must follow: execute the High Mage of Katolis.” Janai looks ready to retaliate, but Khessa holds up a finger to stop her.

“But as your sister, I say it’s all at your discretion,” she shrugs. “If you choose to go on a rampage and kill every individual that has been touched by dark magic, I won’t stop you. If you choose to take the staff back, that’s fine by me. It's your prerogative as a warrior to do what you feel needs to be done, I just don’t think it’s worth the effort.” Janai stays silent. “Is that all, my dear sister?”

“Sure.” Janai’s eyes narrow but she makes her way out of the room. “Goodnight, Khessa.”

“Goodnight, Janai,” her sister calls after her in a sing-song voice. Janai resists the urge to return and introduce her fist to her sister’s smug face.

* * * * *

Sarai cradles an almost-sleeping Callum in her arms. Though the steady rise and fall of his chest might have been enough to convince anyone he was asleep, he would occasionally adjust himself so he could face his father, probably checking to see that Adriel was still there. She could feel him relaxing just a little bit more with every confirmation and she hoped that meant that he would sleep peacefully tonight.

They had spent the rest of their day in the courtyard, playing around until their bellies ached from laughter. By the time they decided to depart for dinner, the sun was long gone and the children could hardly keep themselves up. The adults barely kept them awake enough to eat but they made it back to the room, somehow.

In all honesty, Sarai was expecting everyone to be ready for bed and halfway to dreamland shortly after arriving at the room. However, a freshly-bathed Claudia had other plans.

Wide awake, she decided she would do some preliminary checkups on Uncle Adriel before her mother arrived. Seeing he had no apparent injuries, though, she took the liberty of assigning him imaginary cuts and bruises that she needed to patch up.

“I’m going to clean it now,” Claudia announces, pulling in Adriel’s hand. She picks up a corner of the blanket and wipes his invisible injury. “Don’t touch it, okay? I’m going to get medicine for it.”

“Yes, Doctor,” Adriel answers solemnly as Claudia walks to the bathroom. Sarai can’t help but giggle, and he stares up at her from the bed with an eyebrow raised.

“What? It’s cute!” she whispers defensively.

“It is,” Adriel agrees with a chuckle. “You know… We could always try for a girl next.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, though it looks more comical than anything. Sarai simply rolls her eyes in response.

Claudia returns with an empty cup. “Just pretend there’s medicine in here,” she whispers conspiratorially, looking around to make sure no one heard her secret. Sarai did, of course, and she swallows the laughter bubbling up her throat.

“I’m going to put the medicine now!” Her tiny fingers dip into the cup then gently rub the ointment on his non-existent wound. “I’m going to stitch it closed—don’t look, it'll hurt more.” She pushes Adriel’s face away before she starts “stitching.”

“You’re really good at this,” her patient comments. “It doesn’t hurt at all!”

“Because mommy taught me.” She sits back with a proud grin. “There, all done!”

“Your mom taught you a lot, huh?” Sarai notes and Claudia nods enthusiastically. The child takes a breath to speak, but a knock on the door interrupts her. Lissa and Soren enter when Sarai beckons them in.

“Mommy!” Claudia is hugging tightly onto her legs before anyone else can react. “I helped Uncle Adriel a little bit before you got here. Didn’t I?” She eagerly turns to Adriel who flashes a wide grin and a thumbs up.

“Is that so?” Lissa crouches so her eyes are level with her daughter’s. “Good job, my darling, I’m proud of you. Soon enough, you’ll be able to help me and Mathias at the infirmary.” Lissa faces her son, but not before catching her daughter’s eyes lighting up. “Now, Sor-Bear, why don’t you take your sister to the room so the two of you can get ready for bed?”

“But I’m not sleepy yet,” Soren protests and Claudia whines along, agreeing with her brother.

“But what if daddy comes home and no one’s there? He would be sad, wouldn’t he?” Lissa frowns.

Soren pouts but lets out a hum in agreement.

“Besides, I can’t send Claudia alone. You’re her big brother, you need to protect her.” She turns to Claudia. “And you, my little healer,” she taps her daughter’s nose, “need to make sure Soren doesn’t get hurt. So can you two do that for me? Take care of each other and wait for daddy?” 

The children exchange glances before Soren slowly nods at his mother.

“Thank you.” Lissa engulfs them in a tight hug. “I’ll see the two of you in the room, run along now.” She rises when her children leave. “So, your leg was hurting?” she questions, quickly transitioning into a professional tone of voice.

He blinks at her. “Hip,” he corrects. “Though with how fast you changed your persona you might need to check for the effects of a whiplash, too.”

“It comes with the profession,” she shrugs. “Lay on your stomach, please.” Adriel complies and she starts pressing into his back, feeling around for any anomalies in his spine. Sarai initiates an idle conversation with the Doctor and Adriel allows his eyes to close.

He’s somewhat relieved that Sarai is there to keep her company, he has never been much of a conversationalist. Of course, as General, interacting with others was inevitable but it often exhausted him to do so. Adriel has always prided himself in being an observer, the kind of soldier that watched and waited for an opportune time to strike. That’s how he was in conversation too, a listener more than a speaker.

Except now—he wasn’t listening to anything the ladies were saying.

They often start with small talk, but Sarai has known Lissa longer than Adriel has. Lissa had just married Viren when Sarai first joined the crown guard and his wife, ever the passionate fighter, often found herself in the infirmary. Their history shows when their conversation turns reminiscent, names and stories that even he doesn’t know float between them. He decided a while back that he’d rather hear the full story from his wife instead of trying to piece together fragments of their memories.

“Exhale when I push down,” Lissa instructs, snapping him out of his stupor.

Wind leaves his lungs harsher than he expects as Lissa abruptly pushes down on his spine, causing a frighteningly loud crack.

“What was that?” he hears Sarai ask.

“His spine,” Lissa answers nonchalantly. There’s a pause and Adriel can vividly imagine Sarai looking at the doctor expectantly before she continues. “The healers of Evenere have a practice centered on the spine. Each part of the body is connected to it at different locations so, theoretically, aligning the discs of your spine should help with the pain.”

“Theoretically?” Adriel echoes, his voice muffled.

“It’s a fairly new practice,” Lissa explains. “And it has shown promise in pain relief so I figured I’d try it on you.”

“What an honor,” he says dryly.

“Exhale,” she grunts before she presses into his back again. “Hey, it’s better than anything we’ve got. If magic doesn’t fix this then I don’t have high hopes for our medicine.” He feels her palms lift from his back. “There, that should do it. Try to walk on it.” Adriel pushes himself up and tests his range of motion. “So, when did the guards get here?” Lissa asks as he starts pacing the room.

It’s Sarai who answers. “The ones outside? Not sure, they were here when we got back.”

“There weren’t a lot of them.”

Adriel marches in place, his left leg buckling ever so slightly when it supports the weight of his body alone. “Don’t need a lot of them,” he says with a shrug, now shifting his weight between his right and left legs. “The pain is gone and a limp won’t deter me. Two generals in this room should be enough to take them down. Besides, we have the High Mage, the palace Doctor, and Captain of the crown guard all living along this hall.”

Lissa raises an eyebrow. “Is that why you brought your family here?”

He freezes, and his eyes wander over to Sarai as she lowers her sleeping child into his crib. “I brought them here because my family is safest with me.” He hobbles over to his wife and takes her hand protectively. She responds with a reassuring nod. “I knew I would need to return to the castle to be fixed up but there’s no one I trust more than myself to ensure their safety.”

“I understand.” Lissa smiles softly at his statement. “I’ll check on you again in a few days. For now, rest and hopefully the next time I come back I’ll have something for that limp. Is there anything else you need?”

Sarai and Adriel shake their heads and thank her for her efforts.

“Perfect! And don’t worry about it, I’m always happy to help. Sleep well, take care!” With a delicate wave of her fingers, her professional persona melts away and she exits the room, leaving her duties behind for the night.

* * * * *

Harrow’s coughing into a handkerchief when Viren steps into his room. He’s dressed warmly in plush burgundy robes, but their loose fit only highlights his morbidly thin body. The Prince doesn’t acknowledge him immediately, but when he does it’s with a tight hug and a wide grin. “Viren! I was starting to think you weren’t—whoa what happened to your eyes?” he asks, holding the mage by his shoulders after pulling away from the hug.

“Good to see you too,” Viren says with a laugh that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “And the state of my eyes is an unfortunate side effect of using this.” He holds out the staff and Harrow’s eyes light up with fascination.

His voice is hoarse as he stifles another cough. “Is this it, then?”

Viren rolls his eyes. “This? No, it’s just some random scepter I found—Don’t be daft, of course this is it!” Harrow guffaws and eagerly takes the staff, examining the handiwork. Not even the exhausted drawl of his voice clouds his enthusiasm and Viren can’t help but feel excitement welling up in his chest.

The last 24 hours had been tiresome for him. He hadn’t had the chance to sleep, spending whatever time he had available digging into the unintended effects of the staff. And despite spending all this time in research, his attempts were far from fruitful. The hope of his family seeing him without these monstrous eyes gradually died with every scroll and tome that failed to hold the answers to his predicament. It broke his heart, but seeing his closest friend marvelling at the staff alleviates some of his misery. 

Harrow passes it back with shaky hands, and Viren subconsciously holds a hand out to catch him in case he falls. The mage gently ushers his friend to the bed as they have a brief conversation about what has been accomplished with the staff so far.

“So I guess it’s my turn to be healed now?” the Prince asks, his tone hopeful. He fiddles with the handkerchief in his hands, and a spot of red reveals itself for just a second before Harrow folds it closed again.

“Not yet,” Viren says apologetically. “But I should be able to figure out what’s wrong.”

The Prince frowns and his shoulders slump. “So another reveal spell.”

“Well, yes—”

Harrow holds his finger up to stop his friend before coughing uncontrollably. Just as the coughs subside, he shoots up and runs to his bathroom. The metallic stench of blood wafts into the bedroom accompanied by the sound of Harrow retching.

“You alright?”

“Peachy,” Harrow groans, coming back into the room with his breath heavy, his shoulders slumped, and his eyes shining with unshed tears.

Viren casts him a look of sympathy, patting him on the back. The Prince has been through a lot these past few months. The illness had first manifested as shivers, seemingly harmless. He requested herbal tea from Lissa, hoping to prevent the cold that he thought was coming but it came anyway. They eventually suspected magic of some kind when his sickness got worse the more they tried to do something about it.

By the time they realized though, Harrow was already coughing blood, with a dangerously high fever that came and went as his body struggled to fight it. Still, they couldn’t just sit around and wait for him to die, so they continued to treat him sparingly while searching tirelessly for possible causes of both the magic and mundane kind.

It surprised everyone to see that Harrow was still the same optimistic, exuberant prince that he was before his affliction. But when the sun sets and his caregivers leave for the day, he lets his walls crumble. All that’s left behind is a broken man, fighting to keep himself together for the sake of his people—this was a side of him that not many were privy to. Viren just so happened to be one of the lucky few.

“It’ll work this time. I’m sure of it.”

The Prince releases a shaky sigh and sits up. “Go on then,” he murmurs, defeat leaking into his voice.

Viren nods and walks over to his satchel of ingredients, fishing out an eye he had harvested from the corpse of a hawk that died on the castle grounds. “Ready?” Harrow offers a single nod with pursed lips.

He speaks out the incantation, crushing the eye in his hand and holding it out in front of his friend. Swirls of purple light emerge from his palm, they reach out and engulf the Prince like snakes wrapping around his frail form.

Both parties tense up as the projections creep across Harrow’s body, causing him to shake. They slowly begin to disappear as if the Prince’s body is absorbing them and that’s when Viren feels it.

The life pulsing in the palm of his hand, its heat almost scalding as it ebbs and flows with Harrow’s breath. But there’s also a layer of magic, lingering in the air like a suffocating smog. His eyes close as he tries to focus on this lead, feeling his magic coax and pull. It felt as though he was tugging on a loose thread: there was some resistance, but it got easier as he continued. What would he find at the end of this rope of magic?

He gets his answers when a strange, disembodied voice speaks. It sounded far from human--distorted and rough--but the syllables it utters are clear.

“ _Mih emusnoc_ —”

They don’t get to hear the full spell before Viren’s concentration breaks and the light dissipates like billows of smoke. “It’s dark magic,” he pants, attempting to catch his breath. “That’s the reason we could never find its description—we’ve only been looking through elven texts.” He lets out an airy, humorless laugh. “Dark magic! I should’ve known. But who would’ve done this to you?”

Harrow’s mind races with possible theories. “It seems that someone on this side of the border is attempting to start a new royal line.”

“We don’t know that yet,” Viren cautions. “The elves are capable of performing dark magic as well. It could just as easily be one of them.” He grimaces. “But at least now we do know the cause of this. And believe me, Harrow, I will stop at nothing to fix this. You will be cured, you have my word.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyy longest chapter yet. Next one will be up 08/21/20


	6. Chapter 6

Viren spends his walk back to his family’s chamber in contemplation. Though his mood is largely positive, there’s uneasiness that has made a home in the pit of his stomach. It would’ve been easy to chalk it up to the nervousness of seeing his family in this state, but the intensity of his agitation suggested otherwise.

He had been practicing dark magic for a long time. Under the tutelage of his mentor, he learned to be resourceful and creative, finding ingredients or substitutes in the most unlikely of places. He also learned to be forward thinking--to acquire pieces of a spell well before he needed them. This resulted in whatever storage space he had at his disposal being filled to the brim with questionable items he wasn’t sure he’d ever use. Just in case, his mentor had always said.

The mage before him had been an active hunter, obtaining the elements of any spell by killing magical creatures: a practice that Viren did not agree with in the slightest. It was excessive and an unnecessary waste of effort. The items they had attained this way usually ended up collecting dust, especially because there were often alternatives that did the job with far less… gore. Sure, such spells were weaker, but they were still functional. 

And so, Viren swore off killing and vowed to only use ingredients his mentor had left behind or things he could easily acquire in Katolian markets. The grasshoppers he used for healing, for example, were from an animal feed stall. He obtained offals, such as the oxen heart he used to restore the King, from butchers. Sometimes, if the situation were dire enough, he would venture into the forest, seek out deceased animals, and harvest their parts--but that was only if it were unavoidable. That was as far as Viren planned to go. Except…

He fiercely rubs his eyes, hard enough for him to see colors dance behind his closed lids. Fixing his appearance requires Sunray monarchs--live Sunray monarchs.

It was strange. His mentor’s use of stronger dark magic only manifested in the form of streaks of white in his otherwise black hair. Viren has acquired several strands himself, but that was more of a result of age and stress than dark magic. 

If he were still a teenager learning dark magic for the first time, he wouldn’t have considered the fact that they were alive an issue. But as a seasoned mage, he knew that any recipe that called for live creatures didn’t simply kill them. It stole from them, pulling and pulling at their primal connection until their magic and soul are a glowing ball in the mage’s hand. The critter left behind is nothing but an empty shell. A fate worse than death.

Viren shudders.

He probably wouldn’t need to restore his appearance. The children probably wouldn’t mind his eyes--and his features likely won’t worsen if he just limits himself. He doesn’t need to use the staff for much, anyway. Once he heals the Prince, he’ll be done with it.

Viren’s outside his home by the time he comes to this conclusion, rather satisfied that he’s managed to curb his anxieties before reuniting with his family again. Well, almost reunite with them. They’re probably asleep, he thinks, pushing the door open.

“You know what’s odd?”

He freezes halfway in. “No?” he answers stupidly, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to force out a more coherent response to his wife’s question.

“Numbers that are not divisible by two.”

There’s a tense pause.

“W-what?”

He could almost hear Lissa rolling her eyes. “Hmph. Tough crowd,” she yawns. “But you know what else is odd?” By this time, his eyes are adjusted to the dark, and he sees his wife draped lazily over the chaise lounge by the window.

Though she seemed relatively relaxed and ready for bed, there was something about her form that almost seemed… dangerous. Maybe it was the way her long blonde tresses reflected the moonlight, giving her the menacing but ethereal appearance of a Moonshadow elf. Or maybe it was because her eyes almost seemed to radiate the same muted fury that she barely concealed in her voice.

He gulps, maintaining eye contact with Lissa as he speaks. “I was going to be back tonight.”

“Don’t avoid the question, Viren,” she reprimands. “I think it’s odd that your children haven’t seen you since you returned from Xadia. I understand that you have an obligation to the King, but couldn’t you have spared just a few minutes to see them?” She abruptly stands, walking over to the nearby table to light a candle. “What could have possibly been so important?” She pivots to face him, only to drop the lit candle with a gasp as soon as her eyes meet his. It fizzles out and the two are engulfed in darkness. 

“Viren,” she begins cautiously. “What happened to your eyes?”

With a dejected sigh, he walks over to pick up the candle, lighting it with magic as he pinches the wick between his index finger and thumb. There’s a brief moment of silence as Lissa intently studies him. “I couldn’t let the children see me like this,” he whispers.

“I… I’ve never seen anything like this.” She holds his chin, tilting his head at different angles to survey his predicament. “Are your eyes more sensitive to light?”

He can’t help but laugh. Her insatiable curiosity despite the circumstances is endearing. “Is that really your most pressing question?”

“It’s the least offensive one,” she mutters absently, pulling his eyelids up and forcing his eyes to widen. “I have a few choice words for you but right now is hardly the time.” She releases him and leans back with her arms crossed. “Huh. They’re _completely_ black. How did you manage to do this to yourself?”

Viren shrugs. “I can’t say for sure. All I know is this happened after I healed Adriel. Though, on the bright side, it doesn’t seem to have gotten worse even after casting spells on the King and the Prince.”

Lissa freezes. “Wait. You mean to tell me that even though the staff did this to you,” she gestures to his eyes, “you still went ahead and used it?”

“It’s my duty, Lissa,” Viren defends, eyebrows furrowed. He almost wishes he could take it back as soon as he sees the fire ignite in Lissa’s eyes.

“Alright then.” She pushes herself up, making her way to their bedroom.

“Excuse me?” Viren blinks—he was not expecting that. He grabs his wife by the wrist, and she responds by shaking him off.

She holds a finger up to his face. “No, no, don’t even worry about it I completely understand. It must be so difficult to do your job when you’re weighed down by the love of your wife and children,” she rants sarcastically, her volume steadily rising. “All these troublesome family relations, what ever shall you do?” 

“That’s not fair, Lissa, I already told you why I couldn’t come back,” he snaps, the loudness of his voice matching hers.

She brings her fingers to her temple, her eyes squinting as if trying to comprehend what just came out of his mouth. “That’s not even the problem here, dammit. That staff is doing something to you, you don’t even know what. And yet here you are frolicking around the castle doling out spells like a baker distributing his unlimited supply of bread--”

Viren interrupts, but that doesn’t stop Lissa from talking over him. “Three times! I only used it three times and with purpose. I wasn’t just throwing around magic whenever I felt like it.”

“--What if it kills you? How am I supposed to explain to Soren and Claudia that their dad would much rather die fulfilling his duty as the High Mage of Katolis than be their father?” Viren comes back with his own round of arguments, but Lissa only shouts louder, attempting to overpower him with her voice.

With their screaming match in full swing, they don’t notice Soren stepping out of the room with Claudia cowering behind him. They don’t even hear the child yelling for their attention until he runs between them. “Stop fighting!” he scolds. “You’re scaring Clau--” He stops, eyes meeting his father’s. Viren’s lips tilt up as he begins to smile, but that only seems to help Soren cross the threshold from confusion to absolute horror. The child releases a fearful scream. 

It breaks through Lissa's anger. She rushes to pick him up and place a hand over his eyes, but he is now writhing and crying, begging for his father to stop scaring him. 

The scene absolutely destroys Viren. He had expected some apprehension from his children but nothing like this. The boy was terrified beyond words and Viren couldn’t help but feel absolutely repulsed by himself. How could he do this to them? What kind of monster would subject their child to this? He shouldn’t have come home tonight.

He’s pulled from his trance by a tiny hand wrapping around his fingers. He looks down and Claudia’s eyes meet his, alarmed but intrigued. “Daddy?” He smiles in response, a warmth filling his heart, but before he could verbalize an answer, Lissa cuts him off.

“You need to leave.” She pulls Claudia away from him, and his daughter’s expression is taken over by dread.

Appalled, he meets her gaze. Through her eyes are wet with tears, her gaze is hard--taunting, almost--as if daring him to challenge her command. He yields, saying nothing as he walks out the door.

* * * * *

Mathias is on his way to report to Lissa when he sees a tiny head popping out from her bedroom door. It’s Claudia, clearly trying to be secretive based on the way she brings her fingers to her lips and shushes the guards as she passes. Mathias hides himself behind a pillar as she scans the halls, though he isn’t sure why he feels inclined to hide from this harmless four year old.

He catches the eye of a guard, pointing at Claudia with a raised brow. The guard responds with a shrug.

Mathias decides to tail her discreetly, curious, but ultimately confused as to why she was being sneaky about leaving the room. It’s not like Lissa would’ve stopped her from going anywhere, the children would’ve been left to their own devices until their governess arrived anyway. _Where are you going, little one?_ he wonders, sparing a glance at his boss’s room before turning a corner.

They don’t have too much lined up for the day, so Lissa wouldn’t mind if he’s a little bit late. Probably. Hopefully.

After a few minutes of following the child, he finds himself at the library. She stops to chat with the librarian, who seems mildly concerned at her lack of supervision, but directs her to whatever she’s looking for regardless. 

Claudia prances a few rows away from the entrance and finds what she’s looking for at the very top of the shelf. Mathias watches her stand on her tippy toes and reach as far as possible. It doesn’t take long for her to realize her efforts are futile and she lets out a frustrated sigh, letting her hands drop to her side. Mathias feels his lips quirk as her face morphs into one of determination nearly identical to her mother’s.

Just then, her face lights up, and she wags her finger (also a habit her mother has) before yanking a thick book off the lower levels of the shelf. Then another. And another. 

_She’s stacking them_ , Mathias realizes. _Should probably do the responsible adult thing and intervene before she hurts herself…_

He straightens himself and attempts to make it seem like he hasn’t been following her this whole time, letting his eyes trail the rows of books before he looks at her. “Oh, good morning, Claudia!” He internally flinches, acting has never been one of his strengths.

Claudia doesn’t seem to notice his terrible performance. “Uncle Matty!” she yells, only to lower her voice when the librarian shushes her. “I need your help.” She’s already pointing to the book of interest before he even has a chance to ask.

With a chuckle, he reaches up to grab the book only to hesitate when the swirling symbol of dark magic stares back at him. “Are… are you sure you should be reading this?” Mathias may be well versed in medicine, but dark magic is an enigma to him. Is it appropriate for children? Wait, can she even read?

She makes a face. “I just want to look at the pictures.”

Mathias gingerly pulls the book off the shelf and quickly flips through the pages. The pictures aren’t the worst he’s seen, just detailed sketches of various ingredients and the drawings of any internal organs aren’t gory by any means so it should be fine… right? He can’t help but feel pressured as Claudia gazes up at him with wide, puppy-dog eyes. He momentarily struggles to come to a decision, but a light does eventually go off in his head.

“Let’s do this: I’ll give you the book and we’ll return to the room together. That way, your mom or dad can help you read it.”

Claudia scowls. “I wanted to surprise them. If I can find why daddy’s eyes are like that, I can fix him, and mommy will be happy again.”

The apprentice grins. It’s no secret that she has a heart for service, just like her parents, but it’s always endearing to see it in action. She would make a good healer. “I’m sure they will be thankful for the effort either way.” He squats, handing her the book. “So what do you say, Lady Claudia? May I escort you to your chambers?” He holds out his hand to her.

“Yes, Sir Mathias,” Claudia giggles, balancing the book in one arm as she takes his hand in hers. “You may.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be out by 08/29/20~ Feels like these notes should be longer, but oh well haha


	7. Chapter 7

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Sarai shoots an arrow and curses when it misses its mark. She’s been antsy this morning and needed an outlet for her pent up emotions. Craving the silence of solitude, she headed to the archery range at the crack of dawn, knowing it was going to be empty until the soldiers completed their morning conditioning. She just wasn’t expecting anyone to be looking for her this early.

“No, you didn’t.” She nocks another arrow and draws back the bowstring. “You would’ve checked the room first, then the courtyard.” With an exhale, she releases only to hit the outer ring of the target. Another curse. “No one expects to find me here.” She reaches into the quiver, still facing away from the intruder. “Which is kind of the point, actually.”

Viren doesn’t respond to her jab, instead offering her a weak smile that she doesn’t see. “Losing your touch?”

Though she is slightly annoyed at his presence, she chooses to humor him. “Never had it,” she counters, preparing for another shot. Archery had never been one of her strengths. “There’s too much uncertainty. The wind, the weight, the apparatus, the user--you can aim, but one small variation is enough to throw everything off. Requires a special kind of intuition that I just don’t seem to have. I’d much rather be throwing a spear.” There’s a sudden rush of wind as she releases and the arrow flies past the target, slightly to the right. “Dammit mother—”

“Sarai, we need to talk.”

“Oh?” Sarai whips around, ready to give him a piece of her mind but a quick glance at his state stops her. 

He’s standing not too far from where she is with his spell book in one hand, the staff in the other, and a satchel hanging from his shoulder. His posture is proper, as expected of a member of the royal court, but his eyes were downcast. Something about him just looks so defeated and Sarai isn’t going to ignore that just because they aren’t on the best terms.

She unstrings the bow and fetches the arrows while Viren watches blankly. “Come on, let’s go for a walk.” They stroll away from the archery range and Viren stays quiet, but it isn’t the kind of quiet Sarai is used to.

They’ve known each other for a little over a decade now--he and his wife were her first friends when she became a crown guard--and if there’s anything she’d learned in that time it’s that the mage has an incredibly busy mind. There’s always something brewing in there and he could easily spend hours just mulling over his ideas in silence. This silence, however, was nothing like that.

It almost reminds her of Adriel’s contemplative stillness but… sad. Sarai knows that Viren isn’t usually the type to let his imagination run ahead of reality, but Viren isn’t his usual self today. Even though he’s not the most expressive person, she knows she needs to find a way to pull him out of his thoughts.

“Where are you headed?” she asks casually, pointedly eying his satchel.

“I uh… I need to find something to fix my eyes so I’ll be leaving town for a few days.”

She bites down the urge to point out that he didn’t answer the question. “I see. I'll walk you to the stables then.”

“Soren saw me last night,” he abruptly blurts out.

Sarai looks up at him, surprised by the apparent crack in his stoic facade. “Is he alright?”

“He was petrified,” he frowns. “I messed up. And it had never been clearer than in that moment when he looked at me with nothing but fear in his eyes. I was playing with fire and my family got burned. What use is the good that I do when I hurt the people closest to me?” He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. “I’m going to make things right, Sarai.”

“How do you plan on doing that?”  
  
He considers his words carefully before he speaks. “There are ingredients I need to find for myself and for the Prince. I’ll use the staff to cure us and once it has served its purpose, I will be returning it to Xadia.”

Sarai clenches her jaw, feeling anger slowly seep into her veins. “Ah, so will the return of the staff be happening before or after they send their troops here to kill us?”

They were well aware that retaliation is inevitable. The castle was fortified for the eventual intrusion of the elves, but no one had ever dared acknowledge it out loud. Everyone in the know simply danced around the truth, and the unavoidable fact that their lives were on the line remained hidden in the shadows of insinuation… Until now, at least.

“I don’t know,” Viren finally admits. “But that’s why I’m here.” He stops and rifles through the pockets of his bag, pulling out a vial on a chain. “This vial holds enchanted water from the Sea of Castout. It can temporarily counter any Sunfire elf’s ability to... burn up, for lack of a better word. All you have to do is find a way to introduce it into their bloodstream, even just a drop will suffice.”

“Where did you get this?” she asks, unable to stop the fascination from leaking into her voice.

“Crafted by the mage before me,” he explains. “It was meant to be taken to the Breach but turns out it wasn’t needed. A certain overachieving General somehow managed to scare them off.” With a gentle smile, he takes Sarai’s hand and drops the vial onto her palm. “I know you probably don’t need it but please accept it as a token of my apology. I failed to protect your family once, and I know this probably doesn’t even begin to--”

“Thank you.” She places a hand on his shoulder and gives it a squeeze, knowing that Viren isn’t the most comfortable with hugs. “There’s still a lot on my mind in regards to the mission. I’m not quite ready to forgive you for... that just yet.”

“I understand,” Viren replies solemnly.

“But you’re a good man, Viren.” She starts walking again and he follows after her. “You know, I don’t think I ever thanked you for healing Adriel.”

He chuckles. “No, I don’t believe you did.”

“Thank you for that too, then,” she smiles. 

They spend the rest of their walk in silence but Sarai is flooded with a sense of optimism. Even though her conversation with Viren was far from all-encompassing, she feels that it was a good boost for her mental and emotional recovery. Things are only going to get better from here.

* * * * *

Lissa’s sitting by the door when Claudia and Mathias enter, dressed in her almost-all-black uniform: plain pants, boots, and gloves, a collared tunic accented with lines of gold, and a burgundy belt tied around her waist. Her hair was pulled into a low braided bun, and a leather band rests atop of her head with the healer’s golden insignia proudly displayed in the center. It was a simple outfit compared to that of other positions in the royal court.

Her eyes land on the leather-bound book in Claudia’s arms but when she speaks, it’s to her apprentice. “You’re late.”

Mathias notices the tiredness in her voice. Though Claudia’s secret adventure this morning had given him a hint that something was amiss, he couldn’t quite piece together what it was. But Lissa’s familiar puffy eyes and her grumpy disposition gave a pretty clear indication of what had transpired the night before. Her fights with Viren didn’t happen too frequently, but it happened often enough for Mathias to know the signs.

“I apologize, Lady Lissa, it will not happen again.” He bows his head.

She gives no indication that she heard him. “What do you have there, Claudia?”

“A book,” she says innocently.

“Your father already has that book,” Lissa points out, her voice clipped. “You should return it to the library. Someone might need to use it.”

“But I’m using it,” she frowns, clutching it closer to her chest as her mother raises a brow. “I’ll read it.”

Mathias clears his throat. “I was actually hoping that she’d be able to read it with you.” _Because leaving a child alone with a book on dark magic probably isn’t a good idea_ , he finishes in his thoughts, hoping that she would pick up on his unsaid concerns. Claudia enthusiastically nods at his statement.

Lissa stands with a weary sigh. “Alright, my darling. We’ll take a look at it later.” She absently pats Claudia on the head and Mathias can’t help but notice the slight sagging of the child’s shoulders in response.

He’s sure Lissa notices this as well but she chooses not to comment. “I’m going to work, okay? Soren’s still asleep but please wake him before Isolde arrives so he can get ready.” She ignores Claudia’s petulant whines at the mention of the governess’s name, ushering her apprentice out the door. “Take care of each other. I love you,” she calls with a slight crack in her voice. “I love you both very much.”

“We love you too, mommy.” With that, she shuts the door and makes her way to the infirmary with Mathias in tow.

Claudia waits until their footfalls are no longer audible before she runs into the room to wake her brother. “SOREN WAKE UP WE’RE GOING ON AN ADVENTURE!”

“Ngh, wha…?”

She throws the blanket off him and tugs at his arms until he’s sliding off the bed. “Come on Soren we. Have to. Go,” she huffs with each pull.

“But why,” Soren moans, reaching for the covers but Claudia smacks his hand. “Hey! No hitting!”

“Because I want to get breakfast.”

Her brother sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Isolde brings us breakfast.”

Claudia crawls onto the bed and pushes Soren from behind with her shoulder. “No, she brings us oats and sadness. I want _breakfast_.” She winks exaggeratedly.

Soren’s face lights up. “Pancakes?” His sister nods enthusiastically. He brings a hand to his chin in thought. _A good brother wouldn’t let his sister miss lessons_ , he considers.

Arms folded, Claudia sulks. “If you don’t go with me, I’ll have to eat the pancakes all by myself.”

Soren’s eyes widen. _A good brother also wouldn’t let his sister walk to the kitchen alone—what if she gets attacked?!_ Convinced, he hops off the bed and picks up an empty bottle nearby. Claudia’s head tilts in confusion. “For protection,” he says seriously, taking her hand in his to lead her to the kitchen.

“Wait!” They stop. “I know a shortcut,” Claudia whispers. She doesn’t wait for a response before dragging Soren out of the room and to the opposite direction of the kitchen. Her brother wonders what kind of shortcut leads them away from where they want to go, but doesn’t question it out loud. He knows his sister is clever, so it wouldn’t surprise him if she figured out this magical shortcut.

Though, Soren can’t help but question why Claudia opted for a shortcut. The less time they spend on travel, the faster they’ll end up back with Isolde and that was not something either of them would’ve wanted. Isolde is not a nice lady.

She’s strict, boring, and the way her eyes narrowed as if she was perpetually judgmental only added to their dislike. Her lips always seemed to be twisted in a frown and her brown hair was kept short, falling to her shoulders in soft, delicate waves contrary to her jagged persona. The fact that she has a job taking care of children confused Soren, she didn’t seem to like them very much. 

_Maybe it’s to avoid her? If Isolde is coming from the kitchen we would definitely run into her on the way there_ , Soren reasons. _Yea, that’s probably it._

His stomach grumbles and he’s not sure if it’s the hunger or his rapidly growing nervousness. The distance between them and the kitchen continues to grow and he would’ve expected a secret door to lead them back by now.

Soren’s eyes narrow as they pass by the last turn of the corridor. It’s almost starting to look like they were going to—

“I just need to stop somewhere,” Claudia abruptly explains, sensing his hesitation.

“We’re going to dad’s office, aren’t we?” Soren slumps, allowing his feet to drag as his sister pulls him along. She doesn’t verbally answer him either, only quickening her pace in response.

Sure enough, Soren finds himself standing in Viren’s study just a few minutes later while Claudia wanders around the room calling for their dad… who very obviously isn’t there.

“I don’t like this,” he mutters nervously. “Kids aren’t allowed in dad’s office, what if he finds us here and gets upset?”

“He won’t,” his sister grunts as she pulls at various books on his shelves, hoping to find a secret passage.

With a frown, her older brother moves to the desk. If someone does end up catching them, he’ll be able to pull Claudia and himself under it so they could hide and they won’t get in trouble. That’s when he spots a bright red dragon toy, sitting on the table next to a wooden sword with his name engraved on it.

He puts down his bottle and picks up the sword. “Claudia, come look at this.”

She complies, seeming mildly annoyed that he’s interrupting her mission. But her expression morphs into one of awe when she sees the plushie. “What is that?”

“It’s a dragon!” Soren pokes at it with his weapon. “Dad says that they’re everywhere in Xadia—and they’re waaaaay bigger than this!”

“How big?” Claudia asks, her voice barely above a whisper but her eyes shining with curiosity.

“As… as big as the castle!” he yells, throwing his arms out as far as they could go.

“That’s _awesome_ ,” she gasps, reaching out to touch the dragon.

Soren carelessly swings the sword around. “I’m gonna catch one of those one day,” he boasts. “That way we’ll have a pet dragon and we can ride it to Del Bar and see our cousins again!”

Just then, the sudden creak of an opening door cuts into their celebration and Soren’s blood runs cold. 

Dropping the sword, he hurriedly shoves Claudia under the desk but Isolde’s already walking into the office before they can both hide. Knowing that there was no way they could conceal themselves from her now, the duo straighten up and stand before the governess with their heads bowed, arms pressed to their sides.

“What are the two of you doing here?” she demands. “Wandering around the castle in sleepwear is hardly fitting for the children of such high ranking court officials. Your parents will be very disappointed.”

Soren sees Claudia’s fists clench from the corner of his eye, and he feels himself flinch at the hardened tone of her voice. The governess asked a question, but both knew better than to answer.

“Come, let us return to your parents’ chambers.” She gestures to the door. Claudia’s eyes meet his with apparent confusion. This was… milder treatment than what they were used to. Not wanting to push their luck, the children shuffle over, Soren casting a glance back at the sword on the ground as he leaves.

Isolde clicks her tongue impatiently. “Pick up your toys. Don’t leave your mess here for your father to clean up.”

Soren gasps excitedly despite himself, running back to do as she instructed. With a satisfied nod, Isolde leads them out of the room, barely missing his relieved sigh as he clutches the sword tightly in his grasp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'alls, sorry for the slightly late update... and for the slightly longer wait this time: 09/15/2020

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone!
> 
> Thank you for checking out this story! I've watched TDP many, many, /many/ times and over my many viewing sessions I collected a list of backstories that were hinted at by the adults. This story is an attempt at stitching all that I noted together so it's (mostly) canon compliant... until something new is released and it isn't sobs. The only big divergence from canon is the fact that the sunfire elves had Viren's staff (wiki says the staff has been with humans the whole time).
> 
> Also, I haven't written fanfics in like 10 years but I needed an outlet for all the feelings haha. Soooo yea hope y'all enjoy it. I'll have the next chapter up by 07/30/20.


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